Throwing Down The Gauntlet, Taking Up The Ax
by Miss Eliza Azraelian
Summary: Resorted. Manipulative Dumbledore. Secrets. SLASH HPDM. Harry Potter takes the game into his own hands. Whose against him? Who will he find to be by his side? Everything's gray. Sorting Hat and Fawkes gang up. Severitus.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This came along unexpected. To be truthful I cannot promise a continuation but I hope I do. I would appreciate constructive criticism.**

**Warning: If this does continue, it will contain slash. I don't believe it would be rated R though. **

**Throwing down the Gauntlet, Taking up the Ax**

**By Miss Eliza Azraelian**

The sound of her voice was like metal scraping metal after she had become like an irate mother. Her annoyance, that's what the scraping was, since she could truly careless. Oh, yes, she could most definitely careless, if it weren't for the money. He snorted, her voice stopped, and he knew she was glaring at him.

"Harry! What is with you? Were you listening to anything I've said?" Hermione Granger, know-it-all of Gryffindor most assuredly was not pleased, especially at the fact that Harry just started laughing after that. He had already slipped up with that snort, might as well take control of the game. Of course, Hermione didn't quiet, and continued on to say, "Would you rather I not care? Would you rather I leave you alone to take of yourself?"

To this she expected the wimpy little Golden Boy to profusely apologize and give reason to his action and an answer to what was bothering him. Instead, the laughter stopped abruptly, and daggers stabbed cleanly through Hermione. He stood, hands on the table, a strong voice, determined, and unsympathetic replied, "Yes. I would."

The silence was staggering. Ronald Weasley finally picked his head up from what ever Quidditch book he'd been reading to stare at the scene. Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, didn't just glare at Hermione, there was no anger shown on his face, but for his eyes that were glaring coldly. It was a face a Slytherin would hold. His first assumption was that this wasn't Harry and someone was impersonating him to find things out. But something didn't seem right with that assumption.

"Harry mate what's wrong with you?" Ron was expecting Harry to cool down suddenly and profusely apologize. He was mistaken.

"Quit the act Ronald. Did you think I didn't know? Think I wouldn't ever find out?" The cold glare changed, and there was burning fire seen in his eyes. "I've been playing the part wanted for me since I arrived here. A foolish little first year I was, but it didn't stay like that for long. Wanted the money so badly didn't you? Wanted to be in the spotlight, even if it were in the shadow of The Boy Who Lived? Pathetic.

"Stop the charades; I ain't interested in playing anymore." He grabbed his bag, and placed the book he'd been reading in it. He stepped away to leave as Granger suddenly seemed to get her voice back.

"Precious Potter, what do you know?" The taunting and attempt at a sneer disgraced Granger's face. Harry turned back to her, annoyance evident.

"I'm not your little sheep and I never was so stop herding me. I'm through with the likes of you." He turned and walked away, but stopped after five steps to look back. "I also know that you're a half-blood, how else would you know everything." With that issue taken care of, he walked away. Strode was more exact, his robes billowing behind him giving him a commanding presence, even if they were the plain Hogwarts robes.

----

That evening at dinner Harry sat with Neville Longbottom and Ginevra Weasley, true friends. Luna Lovegood of Ravenclaw was a friend to Harry as well. Ginny had been disgusted with her brother from the time she had figured it out. When she had gone to Harry over the summer after the Department of Mysteries she found that he already knew. He said he would continue to play the part until he felt it was time to turn the tables, but let her have the choice if she'd play one now as well or out rightly despise Ronald. She now took joy in hating her brother, and had sent a letter off to her twin brothers, Gred and Feorge, for supplies.

It was not missed at the Gryffindor table that the Golden Trio as it were, were not. Oh no, not at all, if Ronald Weasley shooting daggers usually saved for Malfoy at Potter was any indication. Weasal didn't know how to keep quiet either.

"What's the matter Potter? Your friends leave you out to rot?" Ronald assumed Harry was missing them and moping, or some such nonsense. When in fact Harry had been having a nice dinner of macaroni and cheese while discussing some curses they had been working on in Defense. Dinner was now spoiled.

"No Weasel. In fact I was quite relieved to finally shed myself of your harping. Now excuse me, _I_ was eating." Harry had turned to look at Ronald with no feelings shown on his face like earlier in the library, and then turned back to his meal. The next thing was a tap on his shoulder and he turned around to get punched in the face. He gave a sigh of having more useful things to do, but stood up from the table anyways. The only phase from the punch was the desire of satisfaction to pummel Ron, the muggle way.

He faced Ron, and of course they now had the eyes of nearly everyone in the Great Hall. Ron was always so easy to anger and flew of the handle in a snap. This time was no different. Harry wasn't going to disappoint him of a fight, only of the victory.

"Think you're all big and mighty do you? Go rot potter." Ron took another swing at him, and the words he said had clearly not been well thought out. Of course, Ron's IQ must be below average. Harry bent backwards to miss his ex-friend's fist, if he could even be called an ex-friend. He brought down his arm, elbowing Ron at the base of his neck. Ron fell to the ground in surprise. Harry waited a second for Ron to stand up.

"Going to stand up? Or are you as I said before?" Harry didn't care that everyone was watching, he was rather enjoying continuing Ron's taunting by turning it on him. He emphasized the word as he spoke it, "Pa-the-tic." In an un-Gryffindor like fashion he kicked Ron back down as he began to get up. Then let his hatred show with a swift strong kick to the boy's ribs. There was a crack and he smirked in satisfaction. He knelt down next to the boy speaking softly in his ear. "You don't know me Weasley. This is a warning." He stood back up and was hoping to just eat the rest of his dinner, but those hopes were crushed.

"Mr. Potter I would like to see you in my office." Crushed by one Headmaster Dumbledore, powerful wizard, and manipulative bastard. "Ms. Granger please take Mr. Weasley to the hospital wing." The old man began to walk out of the hall assuming Harry would follow like a sick puppy. Harry stood for a moment or so debating on ignoring the Professor. "Mr. Potter, now." It was a much more demanding tone then the Professor ever used with students. Figuring there was enough of a show tonight Harry gave Neville and Ginny a smile and waved declaring that he'd see them later, before skipping happily after the Headmaster. He figured he should make the best of it, and what better way then to aggravate the Headmaster and take everything with a smile.

----

The Headmaster sat behind his desk with his jovial expression, but Harry was not fooled. Even so, his happy act was on.

"Good evening Professor Dumbledore. Wonderful day, don't you agree?" Harry lounged himself in one of the comfy chairs, kicking his legs over one of the arm rests. His insanely happy looking grin and glinting green eyes, he shimmered with glee.

"Harry," Dumbledore tried on his grandfather mask, "Do you need to talk about something?"

Instead of getting angry at the old man's inquiry Harry replied with a simple no. Then came the mischievous part. "Unless of course you could explain to me about sex. I mean," acting hesitant and wondering if he could pull off a blush, "all my friends know things. I never had anyone to explain it to me." That was a lie. Remus had sat down to have a talk with him, all nervous, but it was laughed off later. Harry already knew about such things. Remus was infinitely relieved.

Dumbledore was thrown off guard and Harry thought he might be able to see a blush. "Uh, well, you see." Dumbledore took his glasses off and wiped them on his beard, stalling for time. Harry watched him with amusement. It took a few more seconds for Dumbledore to notice something. "That was quite unexpected Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes, _oh yes I'm the Golden Boy, if this author writes that one more time I am going to grab a torch and set fire to her laptop_. "Is it? Hm. Maybe you just don't know me as well as you thought you did?" He had been staring at the ceiling; the smile left his face and replaced with a smirk. He then stood, straightening his clothes. "Well, I believe we're done here, yes?" Not waiting for a reply Harry walked to the door.

"Detention tomorrow night with Professor Snape, 8 o'clock, Harry."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hm, not entirely sure how satisfied I am with this chapter. I would appreciate your opinion on the emotion and mood portrayed. Thank you for reading!**

**Throwing Down The Gauntlet, Taking Up The Ax**

**By Miss Eliza Azraelian**

The next morning was rather pleasant for Harry. It was the first one without the Weasel and Granger badgering him. In fact, Ronald was still in the infirmary. Granger gave him a withering glare when she saw Neville and him in the common room. They waited for Ginny before heading down for breakfast.

When they walked into the great hall curious stares were quite obvious. In their view, Harry Potter just beat up his best friend of the last seven years. Then he walks in with Longbottom and Ms. Weasley talking and laughing as if nothing strange ever occurred. Class before lunch was Charms. Harry nearly gave the Professor a heart attack.

"Everyone take out what you've chosen to animate?" There was shuffling as students took out figurines, small soldiers, random objects, and a pair of glasses. Others turned to someone next to them having forgotten to bring something. "Alright. Now, who is willing to try out the charm first?" Professor Flitwick asked from his book perch. Granger raised her hand, Padme Patil of Ravenclaw, and surprisingly, Harry Potter. "Ah, Mr. potter."

The glass figurine of a young girl sat before him. Her arms were up and her dress flowed out giving an impression of twirling. Staring at the glass fondly, Harry lifted his wand and softly spoke the magic words.

Harry thought he could see sparkles around her now, but no movement he thought he had failed, until the girl began to move, twirling as he always felt she would. He gave a soft smile, picturing his mother doing the same. The simple happiness shimmered around him.

"What a pansy! A glass doll! Wa-."

Harry stood, molten fury in his eyes, and raised his wand. He spoke the words as softly as before, but there was no fondness.

Terry Boot began to twirl around, faster and faster, his eyes wide open and jaw loose in horrified shock. Harry didn't look like he'd ever let up. Time slowed, all that mattered was making this insolent fool pay for what he said. He felt a hand on his arm.

Harry turned to Neville, saw Neville's own fear, and lowered his wand. His gaze did not bother to go back to the boy, instead falling on the glass figurine, no longer twirling, but gazing at him.

"Mr. Potter," Professor Flitwick had never seemed meek in his small stature as now, "Go see the Headmaster."

Harry picked up the girl in his hand and she sat down. Grabbed his bag and defiantly walked out of class.

----

It was all sunshine and flowers outside. Harry didn't notice even though he sat right next to a window. His eyes were caught by the dancing girl, but every so often she'd stop and stare at him. This was a complicated spell; he hadn't been surprised when it worked. Now he was. It was simple to give them one action to do, but multiple actions, the appearance of life, was very complicated. She was staring at him again. Then she waved. Harry smiled.

----

The rest of the day passed fine for Harry. Professor Snape had reminded him of his detention. He was headed there now, after dinner. He walked into the classroom, and the Professor pointed to a pile of cauldrons near the sinks. Harry sighed, knowing this would take a while and knowing that magic wasn't allowed. He had been working quietly and steadily when the taunting voice of the man who wants him expelled interrupted.

"Curious Mr. Potter why you beat up Mr. Weasley in the first place." Harry turned to look; the Professor was still grading essays.

"Curiosity killed the cat."

"Don't be spouting some nonsense to me Potter."

"You really want to know that badly? You really care about anything that has to do with me?" Harry said this in the tone of knowing he didn't care. He gave a harsh laugh. "Aww, the Potions Master cares for me." Harry continued to clean the cauldrons.

"You're a spoiled brat. You're as bad as your father. Lily would've been disappointed."

The cauldron fell into the sink echoing in the quiet Potions room. Harry walked out not bothering a glance at the greasy git.

----

"Watch it!" Harry pushed the person who bumped into him to the wall, his wand out stabbing into their neck.

"Get your hands off me Potter!" Draco pushed back on him, but Harry drilled his wand in painfully further.

Draco was struggling inside, trying not to fear the situation he was in. Then, Harry suddenly let him go. Draco coughed a little, rubbing his neck, and advised himself to not get a wand stabbed in his throat again. "Potter! Potter, what the bloody hell is with you?"

Harry stopped walking away as he had been. There was a torch several feet down which let him see that Harry was shaking. Curious as ever Draco went over to him, warily not feeling angry. He was startled to see that the boy was crying. With out a though he placed a hand on the Gryffindor's shoulder. He didn't say a word.

Harry continued to cry. Draco found himself with Potter leaning on him, the dark-haired boy's head resting on his shoulder, and they were both sitting on the cold stone floor. He said nothing, but listened to the boy mumble incoherent thoughts. "…why? He, …love… can't. He hates… why…? Hates… why?"

It was a shocking situation, more than having Potter stab a wand at him. Harry stopped sobbing, was quiet now, and Draco found that the boy had fallen asleep. He briefly thought of leaving the boy here. The floor was cold, he might catch a cold. Wondering why he cared, he remembered how he saw Potter beat up the Weasel the previous night and found himself carrying Potter to his rooms.

He laid the dark haired boy in his bed. After hesitating he tucked Harry under the covers. It was cold in the dungeons after all. He then tried to make sense of tonight's events. With the thought of Weasel he was reminded that Harry had a detention with Professor Snape tonight. Thinking back to Harry's mumblings, he had a terrifying thought that the Gryffindor had a crush on Snape. Brushing it off as delirious thoughts from being tired he himself went to bed.

Draco watched Potter sleep. No, he watched Harry sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hm, I don't entirely know where I am going with this. Hope you like it! Oh, did I forget to make introductions? The small doxie with an ax behind you is my muse. Beware! Beware! …er, right.**

**Throwing Down The Gauntlet, Taking Up The Ax**

**Chapter 3**

**By Miss Eliza Azraelian**

Harry woke up to the sight of gray-blue eyes. He furrowed his eyebrows. Realizing the occurrences of the previous night he turned away. His ashamed feelings were pushed aside as he took in the décor of the room. Green velvet curtains trimmed with silver hung around the bed of mahogany wood. There was a breakfast table with four chairs around it, a loveseat of brown suede and sitting chair of dark blue before a fire, and an open door he figured led to the bathroom. He turned back around to question his supposed rival when the outer door slammed open.

"Rise and shine Dragon!" Pansy Parkinson seemed to be a bundle of joy as she went over to the enchanted window and opened the curtains. This allowed light to stream in and a groan from bothe of the boys.

"Panda, not now!" Draco sat up grumpily glaring at her and well with in annoyed.

"Oh, hush darling, you know it wouldn't happen if you'd get up in the first place." Pansy had finished tying back the curtains and turned around, whatever words she was going to say dying on her lips. Shock wouldn't even begin to describe it. She blinked a few times and then looked to Draco, who appeared to want to sink into the floor and now wasn't soon enough.

Recovering from shock Pansy also found herself still at a loss of words. She made a nervous noise of clearing her throat. "Uh, I-I'll just go, shall I?" With a curious glance towards Draco she left the room shutting the door behind her.

Draco turned his attention to the confused Gryffindor. There was a moment of staring. "What?"

"Hm?" The dark-haired boy raised in eyebrow.

"You want to ask something. Ask."

"Why, em, why did you, err, bring me here?"

"Worried about your innocence Potter?"

Harry flushed, his hands interested in tracing the design on the coverlet. "No, no, I didn't mean-. Uh, Why didn't you just leave me in the hall or something."

Draco hadn't thought of an answer he'd give Harry. He hadn't really thought much about actions at all. It was uncharacteristic of him, or at least that's what anyone outside of Slytherin would believe. Then again, thinking back to the Golden Boy, he'd think to be hexed by now.

"Why haven't you hexed me yet?"

"Uh, why should I?" Harry raised his head to look at Draco. He stared at the gray-blue eyes that weren't covered with ice as he'd always seen them. "Besides, you're avoiding my question."

"Why did you beat up Weasel?"

Harry's look darkened as he remembered that first question that had led to his current situation. "He had it coming."

Draco shifted slightly unnerved by the dark shadow over Potter's face. Uncomfortable, Draco stood; walking over to the fireplace he rang a small bell. Curiously Harry watched as a house-elf appeared and Draco spoke to him a bit before he left.

"Breakfast." Draco answered simply. He then made mention of taking a shower. Harry realized he lay in Draco's bed in the blonde's rooms. _With the blonde naked in the shower,_ he blushed at his conscience's thoughts. To whatever reason, possibly the lingering misery of last night, Harry snuggled deeper into the covers and thought that shutting his eyes for a while longer wasn't too bad of an idea.

Draco came out of the bathroom to find Harry sleeping again. Sitting down carefully so as to not disturb him he gazed at the innocent face. It wasn't like anything Draco had seen on him before. When Potter had beat up Weasel his expression was stone, a complete turn around from the Gryffindor. Seeing that breakfast had already been brought he gently shook the boy. Green eyes blinked up at him. "Oh, err sorry," Harry said as he sat up.

"It's alright. Breakfast is here." Draco stood and went over to the table, avoiding looking at the boy with mussed hair and a dreamy expression in _his_ bed. He made note of Potter sitting down and helping himself to some food, but made no motion of looking up.

"Thank you Mister Malfoy." The words were spoken in respect. Draco looked up, surprised by the calm expression.

"It's Draco." The words came in a soft whisper. There was silence for a time.

"I apologize." Harry's words were met with a confused gaze and he continued, "For not taking your hand in friendship when I had the chance."

No words were spoken again. Draco had been gazing at his half-eaten Ralston for a while. He looked up, his Slytherin mask not present. Gray-blue eyes full of sadness.

"The chance is still there."

A silent communication, they're hands hesitant at first, and a new start.

----

Harry had made it back to his dorm when it was nearing Lunch time. Mal- Draco and he had continued to discuss whatever came up. At some point Harry teased him with the nickname 'Dragon', and though the boy had glared in return it lacked effect.

It had been later in his first year that he found to regret turning down Draco's friendship. By then he knew it would be better for the time being to stick with the Golden Boy image. It wouldn't have worked if they tried to be friends then. Everything would have had to be kept secret. It would have been nice to have someone who liked him for who he was, who even _knew_ who he was.

They were older, knew what they'd be getting themselves into with their friendship, and knew that it was a decision that would affect the inevitable war. Draco had shown him kindness, reaching out for a reason to disobey his father. With the Slytherin Prince it may be likely to acquire some other Slytherins from the dark folds.

Harry wasn't a fool, surprise surprise, and recognized that the Slytherins were not evil. With the other three houses against them they were left alone. They were a family, even any muggleborns that got sorted in, and they put on a façade to protect themselves.

----

Harry met up with Neville on his way to Lunch. The young boy had grown over the summer, taller now, but also with some added muscle. Neville had happily told about how he spent his summer working in the garden and greenhouses at home. Efficiency on spells is something Neville had worked on last year, and he had improved greatly. His confidence was still low though.

"Harry, you never showed up last night." Neville was fully confident around Harry enough to be brutal in verbal responses.

"No, I didn't," Harry replied smirking. _One, Two, …Three._

"Bloody prat where the hell were you?" Harry irritating Neville was a small joy and easily achieved. Neville now seeing Harry's smirk gave a try at a glare. Harry pinched his cheeks.

"Aww, aren't you cute," before his hands were knocked away.

"Bloody ponce," he muttered as he rubbed his poor cheeks. "Ehh, where were you?"

"Where was I when?" Harry asked innocently, before seeing Neville's rising annoyance and taking some pity. "Dungeons."

Neville's irritation raised a notch, but the conversation ended as they entered the Great Hall.

**----**

**Golden Boy: -rummages around- Ah, here it is. -holds up torch and grins viciously-**

**Author: Nooooooo! No no no nononononono! -grabs laptop and hurries away-**

**Chase insues. Author trips. **

**Author: Eek! Mami!**

**Golden Boy: Hehe! No running now! Muahahaha! -grins with torch coming down towards laptop-**

**Water falls from sky. Fire is doused. **

**Golden Boy: -glares at torch- Damn.**

**Author:-P Haha. -hugs laptop-**

**A thank you to my first reviewer ILoveMyAttitudeProblem. Kudos for unforgivable curse caster. Maybe I should put Ron on a large stake and set him on fire. Hm. Barbecue. Thanks mari for actually complementing me with something constructive. Hee. I love getting reviews… makes me feel special. -grinning like a loon- Anywho, Thanks to animegurl088, Yana5, and mellybellyrbc. Thank you thankyou thankyu thnku!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: This was a joy to write. claps Hope you enjoy!**

**Throwing Down The Gauntlet, Taking Up The Ax**

**Chapter 4**

**By Miss Eliza Azraelian**

Life went on in Hogwarts, but a change in one person ricochet through out the school. It had been a week since Harry dismissed his supposed friends. It was a Hogsmeade weekend and possibly one of the last pleasant days before Winter's Spirit hit. Harry, Neville, and Ginny planned on heading down to the village expecting a carefree day. Since their first day back to school this year homework has been abundant, but thankfully the teacher's have finally let up on this weekend of the end of September.

As they were headed out the doors, with Filch glaring murderously at the students, Harry spotted a blonde boy hanging around outside. _Draco_, he thought with a smile. Draco and Harry hadn't had a chance to talk to each other again since the morning after Harry's detention. A glance, a smirk, and inconspicuous nod here and there. Harry chuckled as Parkinson pulled on 'Dragon's' arm to get him to go to Hogsmeade. Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, and Greggory Goyle were also hanging around, though not assisting Draco in fending off the women. _Vincent Crabbe. Absent._ Harry was curious about that, but noted the observation down for later.

Draco ran to Harry grabbing him by the arms as he made the dark-haired boy into a shield. Parkinson ran over chasing Draco and paused at the scene looking decidedly confused. Neville and Ginny mirrored Parkinson's questioning look. Neville and Ginny glanced at Parkinson. Parkinson glanced at them. The three looked back at the cause of confusion. Goyle, Nott, and Zabini's attention seemed to have been attracted as well.

Harry looked behind him at Draco, eyes glittering with amusement. Draco glared at him.

"Scared Malfoy?" Harry used a usual taunt. Draco was still glaring for a bit, and then paused; his eyes flickered towards Parkinson's and then back to Harry's.

"Yes," he said nodding furiously with eyes wide open. Harry laughed.

Everyone else stayed confused and eventually gave up. Parkinson then continued her nagging at Draco to go all ready which is how it ended up that three Gryffindors and five Slytherins walked together to Hogsmeade.

"So," Parkinson eloquently started talking, "Care to explain why you were in bed together last weekend?"

Smirking as she walked farther ahead of the two boys waiting for the firecrackers to explode.

"WHAT!?!" rang out two lions and three snakes as they stopped dead in their tracks.

"Parkinson! You are dead!" Draco yelled out to her. Harry amused and unfazed by this turn of events, was chuckling much to Draco's chagrin. Draco glared at him and stomped ahead following after Parkinson. Harry watched Draco's back as he walked away, still chuckling. That was until he looked around at his company who were confused and very near to violently searching for answers. "Oh shit," Harry muttered as he hung his head in defeat. With another quick glance around he had the bright idea of running after Draco and assisting him in the murder of Parkinson.

The five were left standing there unsure how to take the uncharacteristic actions of fellow friends and… rivals. They blinked, turned to each other, blinked again, turned back to the three figures in the distance.

----

The now group of five continued on their way to the village. There were wary glances passed between them constantly, a bit too constant. Ginny, in all her red-headed fury, glared at the boys who in turned dropped wary and picked up frightful.

"With the impression Harry and Malfoy left us with are we on a truce?" Ginny asked, surprisingly not biting one of their heads off, yet. The boys glanced between each other, and pondered murdering the author for all the glances occurring in this chapter.

"Well," Zabini spoke up after the other three didn't and hesitantly added, "I suppose so."

Ginny went back to her happy self and grinned. "Good."

The mischief sparkled in her eyes and she reached out grabbing Zabini's… well, Blaise's hand. "Later boys!"

The pleading eyes of the poor Slytherin fell on surprised looks closely followed with amused.

"She's a handful that one." Neville stated.

---

The now group of three finally arrived at Hogsmeade with out any other 'incidents'. An unspoken agreement led them to Honeyduke's where many other students were packed in. With the crowd it was nearly impossible not to get split up.

Neville wandered over to a corner looking at the many variations of chocolate covered insects. Harry had given him some without his knowledge and he found he'd liked it. Now if only he could figure out which one it was. _No, not that one. Hmm… No… Maybe. Oh, wait I think-_

"Well, well, it's Longbottom all alone," the mocking whine of Ronald Weasley sounded behind him, "Without your little saviour." Weasley had his wand out already and the words of a curse were about to flee from his lips.

Neville hadn't registered fast enough to react and waited for the impending smell. It didn't come. He turned around to see Nott and Goyle, the Weasel knocked unconscious at their feet. He looked down then looked up.

"Thanks guys." He grinned. They grinned back.

----

Returning to our main characters we find Parkinson to still be alive. She had been incredibly amused by the boys' reactions. Draco had caught up with her after abandoning Harry and savagely attacked her. Tickling is considered savage! Get up to date! Harry eventually caught up with them and Draco had ceased the attack by then.

Eyeing him up and down she decided that something was decidedly different about Potter, besides his obvious personality switch.

"See something you like Parkinson?" She looked up into the boy's emerald eyes. They held a sparkle she had never seen before this day.

"Perhaps," she replied and then after a moment of thought added, "My name is Pansy by the way."

"Well, Pansy. The name is Harry," he said giving her a charming smile. She laughed and just shook her head in wonder.

"There's something different about you." She looked him over once again. Harry looked down at himself.

He was wearing slacks, even though it was a weekend and dress clothes weren't required. They were deep black and very soft. On his feet were dragon hide boots, black with a red shine. The shirt he wore was a dark emerald of pima cotton. The velvet black cloak added to his refined attire. He looked a proper gentleman when not in his muggle rags.

"When did you learn to dress so well?" She asked astonished.

"Oh, for a few years now, but I was still playing the naïve Golden Boy," Harry replied as he thought up ways to attack the author's computer for making him say Golden Boy. _And thinking it,_ he added to reasons.

A look of comprehension graced Pansy's face. "Oh, now everything makes sense. So you aren't playing a role anymore?"

Harry nodded an affirmative. He then groaned as he saw that insidious smirk appear.

"So what were you guys doing in bed together?"

**A/N: Hadn't known where this was going and I think I like it that way. Just writing, having things come off the top of my head, creates itself. **

**Thanks drippy123 for that informative review! It wouldn't be too bad to have a beta, the thought crossed my mind. I think I'd like to finish the storie though and then go back and edit it myself. I am also aware that I phrase words rather peculiarly. However, it amused me immensely when you mentioned that American English is not my native tongue. It is but to wonder. Thanks again! **

**And thanks to everyone else who's reviewed! And even those who have simply taken the time to read!**

**Harry sits in a dark corner his thoughts centering on the destruction of the author's laptop. A maniacal grin appears the laughter echoing off the walls of the tower into the open sky.**

**Author feels a foreboding future.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Throwing Down The Gauntlet, Taking Up The Ax**

**By Eliza Azraelian**

**Chapter Five**

Over the next few weeks the inhabitants of Hogwarts castle were still just as surprised as they had been in the beginning of October. The generation of Gryffindors' and Slytherins' were rivals, enemies if you'd put it that far, and never tolerant. That is why it was struck odd as eight students walked into the Great Hall for dinner after the Hogsmeade visit.

Not noticing, or disregarding, the silence the group continued their conversations walking over to the Slytherin table. Ginny and Pansy were whispering back and forth to each other while occasionally peeking a look at two of the boys in their group. Four of the boys were discussing the load of homework that's been going on. The other two were having a quieter conversation which could still not be heard, but their laughter was.

Draco sat down at his usual seat and motioned for Harry to sit next to him. As the rest of them were seated the hall quickly went back to its buzzing. Cool blue eyes watched calculatingly trying to figure out how the boy had slipped through his fingers like sand. Emerald eyes turned and cast out daring looks to others before landing on the cool blue. His eyes burned with fire, but it was calm and collected, and laughing at the old man.

----

Over those next few weeks Dumbledore had tried to undermined the situation and get back in his control. His mistake however is that his view of Harry as an ignorant childe hadn't changed. His actions were laughed at by the boy. At some point, Dumbledore's anger led him to send Weasley and Granger to rectify the problem.

It is however that now Harry is standing in Dumbledore's office, no longer amused, and glaring fiercely. The old man had sent to the two Gryffindors to obliviate Harry's memories and then he could incorporate new ones. It's anyone's guess to why he didn't obliviate Harry himself.

Granger and Weasley were right now getting chewed out by their Head of House. Proximity alarms and wards interfered with their sneaking. Harry had not been happy, and his wards had some nasty, but legal, curses, which is why he'd been sent to see the Headmaster.

The old man lifted his wand, under the pretence that he would succeed in getting his tool. A blur of fire swiped at the man, his wand fell to the ground. The fire flew around him before landing on Harry's shoulder. Fawkes.

It appears that Fawkes wasn't quite as loyal to Dumbledore as Harry had thought. He smirked in this realization, watching as the Headmaster looked dumbfounded. The bird lifted into the air again and squawked at the Headmaster, sending out a blaze of fire.

The flames glued to anything flammable. They licked at the extravagant purple and yellow stars robe. The long white beard was crinkling and turned black as the acrid smell of burning hair filled the room. Dumbledore dances around trying to pat out the fire in his beard and robes. He eventually succeeds, dropping all pretences of the grandfather act and glares menacingly at the boy.

Dumbledore has lost control of the situation and not knowing how to retrieve it stalks out of his own office heading to the infirmary.

Harry turns to Fawkes who is sitting on his perch preening.

"Why'd you do that?" The bird didn't even look up at him.

Harry turned to leave, frustrated at the lack of sleep and knowing that going to bed would only serve him to miss breakfast.

"Mr. Potter, it is time to rectify past events."

Harry turns around, recognizing that voice that he hasn't heard since Second Year. The Sorting Hat. The patched hat is sitting on the shelf, not moving, looking just as it always does. No matter how long he stares the hat says nothing more so he turns away and walks out.

_Rectify past events. _

----

Harry was lounging in Draco's rooms. He laid sprawled in one of the green chairs in front of the fire with legs hanging over the arm rests. Draco was sitting at the couch leaning over a long roll of parchment with neat elegant penmanship. One of the textbooks for potions was lying open next to him on the couch.

Emerald eyes studied the lean pale figure. His skin wasn't sickly, in the right lighting in fact it appeared to glow a soft golden light. The blonde hair fell in front of ocean blue eyes; his hair reached slightly past the tip of his ears and left a slender neck exposed. He imagined a tongue massaging down to the collarbone, sucking and biting at the skin.

Harry shifted in his position and brought his feet down on the floor.

"Draco," he waited for the blonde to look up before continuing, "that essay is due next week."

"Your point?" The blonde went back to his work.

"My point," Harry said softly into the young man's ear, "is I am bored."

Draco felt his insides twist and a heat in his lower abdomen. Harry's hot breathe caressed his ear and it was only his control keeping him from releasing a moan. He moved away slightly, thinking that the boy was interested in someone else.

"You don't have to be here." It may have come out a bit more harshly then it was meant.

"I was just suggesting we go outside and you can take a break." Harry had moved back, his feet moved to a more defensive position.

There may have been an apology here, if Draco wasn't a Malfoy.

----

Harry had walked out. He wandered around the dungeons, walking slowly, drudging along. Rivals, maybe that was the reason. It would've been too good if they could simply move away from the past. Sometimes Draco would say something and Harry would react defensive which the other boy would return. It was the opposite this time. Harry didn't know what it was he'd done though.

Was he too close to Draco? Did it make him feel uncomfortable? But then, why? Was he against homosexuals or was he homosexual? _Wait, what?_ The feet stopped, and the body slipped to the floor sitting in the middle of a corridor. _I know I'm gay. Why would I assume Draco is? Aside from his obsession over perfect hair and that he knows how to dress impeccably. Oh…. _

----

Draco finished his essay. However, the moment he set the quill down his mind was assaulted by a torrent of thoughts. _Oh merlin I cannot handle this._ He groaned putting his head in his hands. How could he be friends with Harry when his body reacted like that? Harry liked their Potions Professor. Draco couldn't understand why, but then again it was his godfather and he wouldn't want to think of him like that. _Unless of course I was mistaken in the assumption… no, it wouldn't make sense, if it wasn't that then what had Harry been mumbling that night? _Thinking was a dangerous and torturous creation.

Draco stood up, hoping Harry would be at dinner and that they'd be alright. Draco never got a chance to see if Harry was alright now though, never had a chance to breech the subject before another event happened. It didn't quite help him handling being around Harry either.

----

**Dun dun dun…. spooky music. I love the Addams Family, does it rerun on TV at all? Hm. I ordered my macbook! dances … The laptop Harry's been trying to destroy is actually my mum's. …The torture of the carrybag arriving and it not. agony Thank you for reading oh so much!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: This has not been thoroughly read by me from after I wrote it. I feel that my readers however may just want something since it's been two weeks or so. Oh, did I mention my macbook came in!? I call him macbaby!**

**Throwing Down the Gauntlet, Taking Up the Ax**

**By Miss Eliza Azraelian**

**Chapter Six**

Harry Potter made his way to the Great Hall, a few minutes tardy for dinner. He had gone to the library and scoured the shelves for something interesting and though he found a few he couldn't get into the mindset to read. This revelation of his own attraction to Draco, that it was more than simple admiration for the blonde's body, had upset his equilibrium. He was now set with nervousness inside about how he's going to act around him and whether or not any advancement is unwelcome.

Stepping into the Hall he was met with an unusually quiet crowd. It wouldn't be vain of him to assume it had to do with him; he was famous, much to his displeasure, after all. However, the population of Hogwarts was not looking at him standing just inside the doors. The focus was on something at the front of the hall.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," the voice was familiar, "pleased you could finally grace us with your presence."

The sorting hat, held in Fawkes claws lightly, was in front of the Teacher's Table. The hat was never seen anywhere but the shelf in the Headmaster's Office besides the Sorting at the beginning of the year.

"Well, come up here."

_What a demanding hat,_ Harry thought as he made his way up there, rather confused, and yet moving with motions as if he knew what was to occur. As he arrived before the head table he caught a glimpse of the old man's expression, before the hat went on his head and fell down over his eyes even six years later.

'Tricky one you are. You knew more then I could read back then, a true snake. You understand more now, that this is where your heart belongs. Fate always finds a way. Be who you were born to be in SLYTHERIN!" The sorting hat spoke the last word out loud, and then continued to rectify the watchers' confusion. "Mr. Potter has been resorted into Slytherin house. That is where he has always belonged. Have a good day everyone."

With that last statement Fawkes took hold of the hat and they were gone in a flash of flames leaving a stunned audience. It wasn't long before loud whispers rose up in the hall from the students and even a few Professors.

Harry was stunned for a brief moment before the feeling of joy encased him. With an indifferent expression he looked up to what the Headmaster may be thinking. Dumbledore was furiously glaring at him with anger steaming behind the sparkle. The old man then opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Harry thought he faintly heard the trill of a phoenix. Instead, his old head of house stood up and quieted the room. She simply said that the sorting hat knows what it is doing and that from now on Harry Potter would be in Slytherin. She took out her wand and motioned for Harry to come closer with that she tapped the patch of a griffin and it morphed into the snake.

"You may sit with your housemates."

It was not lost on the observant that he'd already been sitting with the Slytherins a lot anyways. Turning away from the head table and heading toward Draco, forgetting the tension between them.

The Slytherins that he had not made amends with stared at him like he was a fish out of water. Draco didn't share his amusement to that effect and demanded of them to return to their own business.

"Where have you been?" The blonde asked as Harry scooped himself out mashed potatoes.

"Library."

He was returned a look that said, 'And that proves your point how?' Harry ignored it turning to Neville about an Herbology assignment that was do next week.

Draco sighed, in his mind only of course, picking at his dinner. Hunger left him and for a while he struck up a conversation with Blaise. When that failed to keep his attention he bid goodnight and left for his room.

Near the end of dinner the Potions Master and Head of Slytherin house walked over, an indescribable expression plastered on his pale face. Coal black eyes peered down at his Seventh year snakes, two Gryffindors, and a former Gryffindor-turned-Slytherin that he could find no words to describe.

"Come with me Mr. Potter." There were no pleasantries and no warmth to anything he said. Harry's friends gave him a share of pity and amused looks. The ebony hair student stood up, laughing silently at Pansy's keen interest and giving a small smirk.

Harry followed the Professor out of the Great Hall with a brilliant smile. Professor Snape was one to notice things, even as subtle as they may be, he therefore did not miss this smile and that he had never seen the boy smile such as this.

The path to the Slytherin common room was walked in silence, bothe wary of the other. The older man spoke the password and when entering the common room began his routine speech he'd give newly sorted students. It was easier to deal with this not thinking that this is Potter and how in the nine levels of hell he became a Slytherin. Well, more so that he was a Slytherin this entire time and Severus never took notice.

The Professor then turned away beckoning Harry to follow him once again. As they stepped out into the hall Harry paused.

"What about the dorms?"

Snape turned to him in vexation while giving a surprisingly informative reply.

"The Slytherins have dorms outside of the common room. Not all of them are even in the dungeons."

He turned away and Harry followed… again. They stopped in front of the entrance to Draco's room to which Harry simply turned towards the Professor and raised an eyebrow. Severus gave an audible sigh as he explained something once more when all he dearly wished to do was have a nice reunion with a bottle of sherry. _Hm, or find Potter torn to pieces and such I wouldn't have to deal with this._

"Draco is the only seventh year student with his own room because of the odd number. You will now be rooming with him."

"What?" The loud call came from behind the two and they turned to see a frenzied blonde.

**A/N: Reviews are appreciated and cheer me greatly. Criticisms are welcome! Thanks for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: My apologies for not writing. It's been difficult to find my motivation and inspiration. I had also got stuck on a part before I realized just yesterday I don't need a follow up on that part. So, without further ado I present the Seventh Chapter! Hope you like it! Input is very much appreciated! P.S. I haven't read through this yet... bear with me. Thought I'd at least get it up since I finally wrote something!**

**Throwing Down The Gauntlet, Taking Up The Ax**

**By Miss Eliza Azraelian**

**Chapter Seven**

Sighing as he woke to yet another day. The young man got out of bed, daring a glance at the other bed with the dark green curtains drawn, and headed out to the lawn. It was cold outside. The sun shone through the clouds, the layer of blinding whiteness up above.

His body went through the motions. Like a dance, with grace. He didn't care to keep it a secret any longer. Everything was changing, even when nothing was. Dumbledore was watching him even closer since being resorted, an event only having been heard of in the early 1300's when a young Hufflepuff was resorted into Gryffindor. Not such a dramatic change.

It had been back in the founder's time that they each taught the pupils until the age of 13 and then would pick which students would continue learning under them. It depended on talent and what they had desired to learn, not so much about personality. But the idea of the sorting hat was bound to have flaws. It seemed ideal to help children cope by putting them with other's their age similar to them.

Sweat beaded on his skin as he pushed himself further into his martial arts routine. Holding a one sided match against himself, it was as if he were fighting an invisible opponent. In a way he was. Being thrown into a dorm with Draco Malfoy had seemed wonderful, he was shocked by the outrage the blonde had held. It had been at least a week that the blonde protested to the Head of Slytherin House. Two detentions and the loss of fifty points had not gotten through to the young aristocrat. It wasn't until he'd been threatened most severely, which his friends amusedly believed to be something drastic done to his head of hair.

Harry was relentlessly annoyed. For what ever reason, it seemed the usually calm and well mannered blonde had been flying off the handle. He'd find something demeaning and menacing in an innocent phrase. It had started with only what Harry ever said, but soon broadened to include what any one said. It hadn't helped that Draco's friends that had known him his entire life couldn't tell what was wrong.

Every time Draco would begin to start something with him he'd simply walk away. When had this all started? Did the young man need his privacy badly? No wait, Harry paused in his motions and brought his arms down to his sides as stared at the scenery far off. The day he'd been resorted... Harry had walked out, had wanted to do something exciting instead of watching Draco do his homework. He ended up futile attempting to read in the library which sorely proved his point. What was he'd done?

Oh. The raven shook his head a small smile slipped onto his lips.

----

Walking back into the dorm he immediately headed to the shower. It was relaxing to bask in the water, and let it run across his skin almost like ghosting fingers. He felt a twinge below at that impending thought, but delved no deeper into his hormonal fantasies. Turning the handle closed he grabbed a towel wrapping it around his waist.

Stepping out of the bathroom he halted staring into a pair of grey eyes. He stared for a second before closing his eyes, wondering what ruthless comment may come this morning. Instead shivers traced down his back as he felt himself being inspected. It was semi-expected, proving his earlier theory he'd had while working out this morning. It was also entirely thrilling and he felt his blood rushing through his veins and his stomach do a little twist.

Neither spoke and the silence seemed endless. They could stand there forever in that one moment. Nothing else would matter.

Harry listened despearately heartbroken to hear bare feet walk past him and into the bathroom followed by the slamming of the door. He'd never fault this vulnerable since he was a tiny runt not yet understanding why he couldn't call Aunt Petunia Mommie. It was with a hollow emptiness that he dressed and gathered his supplies for his classes that day.

----

Draco woke to the door opening, as he head every morning since Harry moved into his room. He didn't know where the young man went, but supposed that he was excercising since once he managed a glimpse of the boy to see him shining in sweat At least, that was the part of him that shot down and tried to dispel the belief that Harry was doing some form of other activities.

He laid in bed, wallowing in his self-pity, feeling that he could never be towards his friend what he wished. With a sigh he dredged himself up and walked towards the door counting the seconds for Harry to be leaving the bathroom. He always spent the same amount of time in there, except for a fair few. This time however, he had not accounted Harry to have not dressed in the bathroom as he had the following days for the past week and a half.

Staring into green eyes just as shocked as his own he couldn't help the quiver passing through him. Involuntarily he swept his gaze over Harry's well-toned body. The effect was added to with the water droplets on his skin and Draco watched as water dripped from the dark hair and slid over the man's chest, passing by a nipple taut by the nippy air. Self anger he walked around the former Gryffindor and slammed the door behind him. Leaning against the door staring up imploringly at the ceiling he decided he definitely needed a cold shower this morning.


	8. Chapter 8

**Throwing Down the Gauntlet, Taking Up the Ax**

**Chapter Eight**

**by Miss Eliza Azraelian**

Harry set his book down on his lap, his attention drifting to the blonde sitting adjacent to him in the arm chair. He watched, mesmerized by the blonde strands that fell into alluring slate blue eyes. A feminine hand rose to brush it away. He felt that a quirk of a smile and casual comment about his meticulous care for beauty would be common place right about now. His emerald eyes simply stared, attached to the figure sitting lazily as he studied and yet still holding such elegance. He dropped the book on the table before him, causing the others to glance up, but the blonde carried on as if he had not noticed. He stood up.

"Draco," he was caught for a moment as those eyes looked up at him, "May I talk with you?"

The blonde's eyes were curious, and he gave a slight nod as he placed his own work on the table. Draco followed Harry out of the common room. They spoke no words as they walked the empty corridors of the dungeons. Draco took notice of the deep black cloak Harry wore which he knew to have three silver clasps in the front. The cloak draped around Harry as well as dutifully following behind. They resembled something of a dark leech, unlike the billowing robes of Professor Snape that commanded attention and fear. Harry's gave the image of a suave upstanding aristocrat, portraying him with dignity and grace.

----

The group looked up at each other as they heard the wall slide back into place. Ginny glanced back at where the two had been sitting, Harry had been sitting next to Blaise on the love seat. Draco was sitting in the armchair. As small of a difference as it was, a month ago Blaise and Draco's seating arrangement would have been reversed. Ginny sat with Pansy on the floor, books and notes spread out in an disorderly manner. Neville, Theodore, and Gregg were sitting close by at a table playing exploding snap.

They stared.

----

As Harry finally stopped and turned around, Draco realized this young man truly was a regal lord. The only difference between other aristocrats and Harry was the honesty within his eyes.

"What is it that you wanted?" Draco asked indifferently leaning his back against a wall as he gazed at his fingertips – perhaps they held the answer to the universe after all. Harry's gaze was searching, a strong need to find answers that had begun to torment him inside.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

Draco's hand dropped to his side as his heart lurched and eyes widened in surprise. There Harry was so close, arms penning him in on both sides. There was wild fury alive in his emerald green eyes, a demon from the dark.

"Why are you being this way!?" The words echoed in the blondes mind. The words were loud and desperate.

Raising himself up to stand straight, his eyes were cold – a metal shield, his lips a firm line of defiance.

"I do not care to be used Potter." He bit out frostily.

Emerald eyes gazed into his trying to find the meaning, but were lost.

"What-"

"Stop playing games with me." _To hell with you,_ thought Draco.

"I'm not playing any games!"

"Then why do you cry inside because Severus Snape _doesn't_ love you!"

They stared at each other. Draco's eyes were as strong as ever, the calm he could usually maintain was replaced with unconstrained rage. Harry's eyes gazed back, no longer boiling, no longer any visible emotion. It was like they had traded their emotions to the other. However, as much as Draco did not wish to notice as he had only moments before, the honesty still held strong as ever within those emerald orbs.

Harry's arms dropped to his side.

"You think I am in love with Snape."

It was spoken calmly and quietly, a fact being stated as if the realization had not yet entered his mind.

"Aren't you!" Draco shouted at him, as loud as Harry had been shouting before.

"Yes." There was a pause, Draco's anger started to bleed into his eyes, he could not think properly. "He's my father."

And then it was gone. Draco dropped to his knees, his eyes blank as he tried to comprehend.

"Draco?" A concerned voice, it was close. "Are you all right?"

**A/N: Umm, so, how was it? Gomen nasai! I shall work on this more! ...hopefully. -.- Actually I shall ask something of all of you, if you do so want this story to be finished within your lifetime. Please go to my profile and click on that harass button masquerading as email. It would help much me thinks! Anyways, thanks for reading and please review. Constructive criticism most welcome!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: It would be delightful if you might take a moment to read over a few questions I have and keep in mind criticism to be worded back to me, if you please. Are the character's personalities following a steady path? Was Harry's personality change too sudden and not explained thoroughly enough? Was there anything you feel I have not handled correctly? Is there anything unclear, that you do not understand? Does any of the writing contradict itself? Would you like an elaboration on any person, pla****ce, or event?**

**Throwing Down the Gauntlet, Taking Up the Ax**

**Chapter Nine**

**by Miss Eliza Azraelian**

The Slytherin Common Room, though lively with activity, was neither boisterous nor hectic. The scene was reminiscent of observing a wake. Solemn, stone faces were steadily working from books, on parchment, or strategic planning. The Slytherin King was deathly silent as he observed his friends playing Genocide, an adventure board game. Ginerva, the Enchantress, moved three-spaces intruding upon the Knight Warrior and despite her useless right arm triumphed over Neville, leaving him in the Swamp for the next three turns, which happened to be Bourder territory. The term observing translates to refereeing and by board-game we refer to tiny-life adventure – the players were about three inches in height. Harry wasn't present.

A shadowed figure sits on the edge of a black satin bed, a four poster with an enchanted celestial sky. His black t-shirt partially on, the figure rests with his elbows on his knees, his back curved forward as a hunch man. Straggling wisps of hair hung before a gaunt face, the dim lighting gives his flesh a grayish tint and eyes flash scarlet. Pale, slender, arms slip the shirt over his head and the figure rises, unfolding themselves to their towering height. Black dragon hide shoes take several steps on the plush rug to the cold stone with no sound. Standing before the door, a hand reaches out to grasp the knob. The knob whines as it is twisted.

Stepping in to the hallway, he quietly shuts the door and turns left, his steps lacking the echoing in the dungeon hallway, the lights remaining dark as he passes. The walk is solemn and continuous, seemingly unending with identical halls. He stops before a blank wall. He turned back 5 paces, and turning back again, and then once more. Darting his eyes to the wall he watches entranced as grotesque carvings rise from the wall to become double doors illuminating darkness. A few steps and he reaches out, tracing his hand on one of the carved snakes. It twists and squirms as it comes alive, raising its hood up to stare into bright eyes. The snake then coils back into itself. He steps into the wall, and continues walking, seemingly being absorbed into the stone itself. The hall is left alone, the symbols patterned on the ground dimming.

Stepping out of the wall, the room he now stood in resembled a sparring area – gleaming weapons hung on the back wall, wooden poles were set in the far back left corner, a closed altar cabinet stood in the far back right. The floor held ritualistic symbols on the form of a mandala. The floor felt slightly cushioned. Dim light was shed from the dusty chandelier that hung from the ceiling and sporadic torches on the wall were lit with green fire. It was cold in the air, in the stone, in his heart.

As he walked to the center of the room golems arose, born from the floor, seven in number. He set his feet a part, his arms hung loosely and his eyes burned with intent at the enemies marching closer, surrounding him. Time whispered mockingly, motion slowed and when the first golem reached to attack it had all ready been thwarted. The training battle lasted a minute amount of time. Small beads of sweat mixed with blood on his face, but his breath was even and controlled. Seven more golems rose from the floor as the others remains were reabsorbed. They were armed with maces, battleaxes and spears. A bloody grin was given from our boy hero.

The Knight Warrior, Neville, and the Bourder, Gregory, had been evicted from the game and both headed to the hospital wing, hopelessly supporting each other. It isn't the most light game ever evented, it's barely legal – and is only so because you are evicted immediately when you are seriously injured. Though there have been few, some have failed.

**A/N: Please review, criticism is welcome. One more I request that those willing to take up the task and honour, harass me! You are welcome to message me on AIM: Justeverlovin and whenever I whine about being bored whip me back into action! Otherwise this story may never be done within either of our life times! The shame, The horror!**

Oh, and thank you to Juniper Raven for harassing! I know someone else did but I don't remember their name and can't find the email, but thank you!


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Without further ado, the story continues. When I began writing this story six years ago, it was a whim, and it was always incomplete. I have since come to understand, that a true story writes itself and as the first chapters have done I hope to continue that now. No one, not even I, know what will be revealed in this in-depth tale of life. By the way, The Double with Richard Gere and Topher Grace is a brilliant movie with twists you could never guess (and some you can).**

**Special thanks to Que3n for her most recent review.**

**Throwing Down the Gauntlet, Taking Up the Ax**

**By Miss Eliza Azraelian**

**Chapter Ten**

** Silence.** Harry swung suddenly, the sword he held connecting with a thin white-blue blade. A new dance had begun; black and purple boots moved softly smoothing the ground like fingers skimming the water's crest.

* * *

Sitting up on the bed, Neville watched as Madam Pomfrey spelled his bones to reset and began rubbing cream into the wound on his leg. Slowly, the dulled pain was replaced with a tingling sensation and he could have sworn he began tasting a tangy mint in his mouth. Gregory stood off to the side; avoiding the wound on Neville's leg his eyes were scanning the Infirmary.

The stonewalls were as drab as the rest of them in the castle, brightened only by the stained glass windows. Behind the nurse's desk a magical painting hung on the wall of the Hogwart's lake. The lake was still, even as the trees of the forbidden forest rustled in the wind. The white sky reflected no light on the black waters. Gentle ripples started from one end and spread across the lake. The wind rose and beat at his eardrums, the cawing birds escaping from the forest cawing in his ears.

"Mr. Goyle!" Madam Pomfrey stood before him with an irate expression. "Lay down. This will only take a minute."

Greg turned away from the painting and lay on the bed next to Neville, absently glancing at the wound on Neville's leg. Despite the protest of his cracked ribs, rolling onto his side he threw-up his dinner all over Madam Pomfrey's feet.

* * *

After the board game, Pansy, having taken Ginny under her wing, began schooling the redhead on the better parts of being Slytherin. Different books, manuals and handwritten notes were spread out over the coffee table. Ginerva's chocolate eyes were solid and her lips firm as she listened attentively. Pansy used various hand gestures throughout her explanations. Absorbed in their lesson, neither paid particular attention to their friends.

The Slytherin King, staring off at the far wall, had been trapped in his thoughts since the familial revelation earlier in the week. The far wall housed a spiral staircase to the Slytherin Library, housing a larger collection of books than the Restricted Section, the majority banned by the Ministry. A trusted Ravenclaw darted down the stairs to their fellow Slytherin researcher, ducking their heads down over the book they had found.

Draco noticed this out of the corner of his eye, but something else entranced him to the far wall. On the far wall hung a two-story tapestry of an ancient wizard's genealogy, the purest of them all. When the tapestry hung in the Great Hall it was damaged badly during the crusades war. Both the war and the ancient line were lost.

"He's my father." He heard the phrase over and over again in his head. It seemed too simple to understand.

A glimmer caught his attention. Rising from his seat, he took note of Blaise doing the same, and they both walked forward ignoring the fellow students as they did them. The two stood before the tapestry of the lost ancient line, a reminder to them all of when the ministry came into power.

Draco gazed at the distant names, barely able to make out the thin small letters embroidered with magical thread and spelling out thousands of names.

"I'm going to fix this."

* * *

The two purebloods had not spoken since being released from the Infirmary. Neville took a languish glance at Greg, who was walking with his chest out and steps firm. Neville looked forwards again.

"Blood, huh?" Neville said casually.

"Hn." Greg grunted dismissively.

"It kind of makes you appear human."

"I am human."

Neville's reply is interrupted by the sounds of voices and steps coming from the library. It was after hours by now, and they had an excuse from being in the Infirmary. Neville, recognizing one of the voices, ushered Gregory to hide behind a suit of armor in an alcove and slid in beside him. From the reflection on the suit of armor they watched a mousey brunette poke her head out of the library, glancing both ways before hurrying across the hall and ducking behind a wall hanging.

They waited a few minutes and were about to leave the alcove (it was a bit crowded with the both of them) when they heard the library doors open and close. Madam Pince made no motion that she noticed their presence as she walked right passed them, a bright red leather bound book held in her right arm and her left hand held in her pocket. They waited a double minute before leaving the alcove. With one glance at each other of silent communication they headed down the hall without a word. Greg silently motioned to a shortcut to get them out of that hallway. It was down a less used corridor and around a corner, the opposite direction of the direct path to the Slytherin Common Rooms.

* * *

Harry felt the vibrations of the blade held at his throat. Then it was gone. The girl with long blonde hair held the quivering splinter-like blade at her side. The blue glow faded and the blade was left white opalescent.

"Not bad," the voice was both childlike and knowledgeable. She spoke lightly, her voice denying the weight of their future.

"Pleasure as always to be conquered by such a lady Miss Lovegood," countering with his playful words, Harry gave a half-bow, hand flourishes and all. He stumbled as he straightened, and Luna caught the flash of red in his eyes. Her warm blue eyes saddened. A pale delicate hand rested on his cheek, but Harry kept his gaze downwards.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of Harry," hoping her voice would penetrate his negative feelings of self-guilt. "Come. The potion will be ready soon."

Her smooth pale hand slipped down grasping his rougher tan hand. She didn't wait for a reply, and felt no resistance as she guided him out of the combat room. They headed through the maze of dungeon halls, hands clasped comfortably. But then her grasp was empty, and a heavy thump sounded on the floor.

"Harry!"

**A/N: Intelligent and constructive criticism is, as always, welcome. I hope Makalani Astral still follows this, and would love to know how your English is! I would like to give a special thanks to Stiina Koit who sent me an email reminder to continue the story. I give my blessing to Kyzhart who seems to have read my mind about Luna's presence. Again, a very special thanks to Que3n who reviewed at just the right time when I had been thinking of the stories continuation! I do thank all of my readers to be sure!**

**Many of you had questions in your reviews, and I am afraid to discover the answers you must continue reading.**

**Please give your opinion on whether or not Sirius should be included, and perhaps a type of role he could play from what you have seen so far. No promises!**


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